


the other side of someday

by gostorain



Category: Teenage Bounty Hunters (TV)
Genre: & then YEARNING, College AU, F/F, Talking Shit Out, i love these two, savannah au, so much surprise, they meet years later & HOOOOO boy, when I say this thing came POURING out of me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:55:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26334478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gostorain/pseuds/gostorain
Summary: the Georgia State College Debate Championship is in Savannah this year and Sterling Wesley is determined to defend her title. only there's a surprise addition of a new school to the competition and everything she's prepared for gets thrown out the window.but plans change. maybe people do, too.orthe savannah au
Relationships: April Stevens & Sterling Wesley, April Stevens/Sterling Wesley, Sterling Wesley/April Stevens
Comments: 106
Kudos: 485





	1. oh, what a world

**Author's Note:**

> when I say the idea of this fic appeared FULLY formed in my head just a few days ago
> 
> literally I have not stopped writing. I had originally planned for it to be a one-shot so I can ease back into writing & test out the waters with these two but the idea is growing by the minute. god I love them so much. hope y'all enjoy

It’s quieter in Savannah.

Not that Athens is loud, but the bustle of students and locals always more than fills the quiet. There's a balm over the small city when the bus rolls onto cobblestone streets, and Sterling leans forward to see through the foggy glass window. 

It's been ages since she's been in Savannah—her parents had brought her and Blair for a few weekends for some good food and clear, sunny days by the giant steel bridge in the harbor. She sees it in the distance now, sweeping cables peeking over the tops of brick roofs. 

The bus squeals to a stop in front of a tall building, sleek and modern and unfitting amongst the old-fashioned architecture of the surrounding square. Dr. Sherman, her Ethics professor and the coordinator of debate club, stands right away, clapping her hands together. 

“Alright y’all, we’re here! Grab your bags and let's get moving.”

She is easily the most excited out of the small group in the bus. Most of her clubmates had slept the whole way, fighting hangovers from a rather wild Thirsty Thursday to start off a three-day weekend. They rub their eyes blearily and moan as they shuffle down the center aisle, some clutching their bags like life rafts in the nauseous vortex of reality. 

The rest of campus would be nursing their wounds till the next party kicks off, but the 6 of them had made the bus ride to old Savannah for the Georgia State College Debate Championship. Sterling had pre-gamed with her friends the night before, but turned in early because of the trip. The nerves had set in days ago and were only getting worse with every passing hour—she probably felt just as puke-y as everyone else walking off the bus. 

Why does she do this to herself? Why does she let all this stress and horror and pain into her life when she could just—

“Hey, defending champ! Let's go!” Dr. Sherman’s head peaks over the edge of the front bench from out the doors. 

Ah. That’s why. 

She snags her duffel from the compartment above and steps off the bus, pausing for a moment as the fresh, cool breeze skitters through her hair. 

Autumn had finally begun its descent into Georgia, sweeping away the stifling heat of yet another scorching summer. This is always Sterling’s favorite time of year, which okay, is very white-girl of her, but with the leaves changing color and the sky shifting to a different shade of blue, can you blame her?

She goes to join the little circle her clubmates had made around Dr. Sherman, who holds a stack of hotel key cards in her hand. 

“Alright gang, y’all know the drill. We’re gonna make the rules review a team activity to make sure we’re all on the same page. Sam, start us out.”

Sam, in the midst of tying up her bright red hair, sighs from her nose. “Tournament days are 9AM to 5PM. The time outside of that is ours, but we have to be ready and downstairs an hour before kickoff.”

Jeanette, standing to Sam’s right, continues the sound off. 

“First two rounds are tomorrow, another two rounds Sunday, then the semi-final and final on Monday.”

“No bars if you're under 21.”

“No breaking the law unless you want to walk back to Athens.”

“Curfew is midnight.”

“Sterling gets her own room because debating makes her psycho.”

She, Jeannette and Dr. Sherman all throw a “ _hey!”_ at Danny at the same time. He throws his hands up in mock surrender, but winks at Sterling. 

_Ugh. Gross._

“Sterling,” Dr. Sherman starts, walking over to throw an arm around her shoulders, “gets her own room because she needs space to find her zen and be the badass debating champion she is.” She holds a silver keycard sleeve up for her to take, and she slides it into the outside pocket of her duffel. 

“Last rule, Sterl?”

She smiles. 

“Take no prisoners.”

The group whoops in response and they all laugh as they turn to head in through the double doors. 

Gentle music filters through the air as they shuffle into the lobby. The wide walls and tall ceiling envelop the open space, letting echoes of low voices and the click of shoes on marble reverberate through the space. 

They pass gaggles of students chatting amongst themselves and a giant bulletin board welcoming all the colleges to the tournament. Everyone files to the elevators, her friends most likely desperate to draw the curtains for darkness and curl up in bed, but Sterling stays behind to read all the flyers pinned up on the cork. Jeanette juts a chin forward as if asking if she's coming with a hand on the elevator doors, but Sterling shakes her head. She’s too jittery to be cooped up in a room. 

She turns to the papers as the lift _dings_ closed and scans for anything of interest. There's a list of tournament rules, but they're old hat for her. Flyers for local restaurants and cool spots to see, snapshots of last year’s event in Macon. She spots a picture of herself holding the trophy in the top corner of the board and smiles. 

It had been a nerve-wracking four days, but the familiarity of debating was comforting amidst the chaos of her first year away from home. She had joined the debate club as soon as she started school, hoping for something old within all of the new.

She had been the first ever freshman to win the tournament. Her parents were ecstatic and drove over to Athens to buy her and Blair dinner to celebrate. Sterling was a little embarrassed with all their excitement, but the fact that her sister was louder than the two of them combined made it much easier to handle. 

Her eyes keep scanning till she spots what she’s looking for. The master list of all the possible debate topics. It’s egregiously long and unspecific, which is done on purpose to make sure no group or individual is too prepared and formal in the delivery of their arguments. Thorough prep would be impossible, but Sterling Wesley would still try. 

She snaps a picture with her phone, zooming into it afterwards to make sure it's legible. 

Her eyes spot the corner of a flyer that had gotten caught in the frame of the photo. It’s a fragment of a list of last names for a school that's competing. It wouldn't be anything of interest except for the name at the very top. 

_Stevens, A._

Her eyes shoot up to the board, looking for the actual paper pinned next to the master list. The school in bold reads “Emory University Debate Fraternity” and Sterling forgets to breathe for a second. 

She knows an A. Stevens who goes to Emory. She knows an A. Stevens who went through a year and a half of high school without speaking more than five words to her at a time, who graduated and moved away and left behind a strange pocket of space in Sterling that never had healed over properly. 

She hadn't thought about April in ages. 

Could it be her? Maybe there’s an entire world of A. Stevens out there. Adams and Abbeys and Annabelles and—

“Sterling?”

She freezes. Not that she was moving before, but something inside her _chest_ seizes like a deer in headlights. With a small breath, she turns. 

“April.”

“Hey.”

They both stand in silence, sizing each other up. It had been all of two years since they lived and existed on the same streets—it was both no time and a lifetime since they had last seen each other. 

Sterling knows she’s different. Her hair is a little wavier, her nose and jawline more pronounced with age. She’s an inch or two taller, a shade or two tanner, but it pales in comparison to how much April has changed. 

She stands different than before—tall but relaxed, as if she doesn't need to prove herself. She’s wearing jeans and a light knit sweater, hair shorter than Sterling remembers and sitting in a soft, loose braid over one shoulder.

Her face looks older, but not entirely so. She had always been beyond her years, and now it seems like the rest of her had finally caught up. She is wholly and incredibly April who had grown into the spaces she'd always fought to fill. 

“Um, hi. I—I didn't know you'd be here.”

April considers her for a moment. She lets the barest hint of a smile touch her lips before looking down. 

“Well, I knew you'd be here. I looked up all the past winners when our chair said we’d be coming this year.”

Of course. 

“Checking out the competition?”

April’s smile turns earnest. 

“Something like that.”

There is an ease that radiates off of her—something Sterling had never expected to see in the perpetually high-strung achiever she had known since they were kids. April’s lips rise into the smile like it's nothing at all, as if she’s comfortable with being comfortable and there is nothing to seeing the girl whose heart she had once broken cleanly in two. 

Something boils low and thick in Sterling’s stomach. Its heat flares and catches her off guard in its suddenness. 

Her mouth turns downwards and she looks away from her. She doesn't know this person anymore.

“Well yeah, I'm here. I’ll—Bye.”

She makes a beeline for the elevators, not looking back but knowing April is watching her. 

“Wait!”

She whips around, ready to fight, only to see her rushing over with a keycard in hand. 

“You dropped this, Sterling.” It's her roomkey. 

She takes it and holds it against her chest. _Darn it._

“Thank you.”

With as much calmness she can muster, she presses the _up_ button of the elevator and gets in when it opens. She jabs the little _6_ and tries, but fails to keep herself from looking up. 

She sees the light filtering through the glass doors and windows and people milling around in the busy rush of the lobby. She sees shadows shimmering as the setting sun creeps lower and lower in the sky, and April Stevens, arms crossed and lips pursed, watching her as the doors close between them. 

//

There’s a spot on the ceiling that’s shaped like Florida and Sterling is splayed out atop the tucked sheets of her hotel bed, tracing the shape of the stain over and over as she rounds the loop of thoughts she can’t escape.

What were the odds? What were the _freakin_ ’ odds that this would happen?

Sure, they were both dynamite in forensics and were likely in similar majors because they always excelled in the same subjects. Yeah, they both go to big schools in Georgia and had overlapping interests, but—

The same event? The same hotel?

 _Dear God, please let this weekend pass without me exploding into a million pieces_.

She sighs and lets herself prod at the strange feelings that had overcome her in the lobby.

She is angry, and surprisingly so. April’s devastating 180 had steamrolled her young heart, but the rapid sequence of nuclear bombs dropped on the quiet grange of her life definitely kept her preoccupied for a while. She and Blair had needed therapy by the truckload to deal with the fallout of Dana’s reveal, not to mention Sterling getting kidnapped and held for ransom. The community reeled from the drama, bombarding them with both vulturous and well-meaning attention until the news of John Stevens’ stunning return took over the gossip cycle and the town moved onto the next story. 

Even through the haze of everything that had happened to her, Sterling had wondered at times how April was doing. Both girls had kept their distance from the other, so she knew nothing more than the tired look on April’s face that she would spot at times.

She and Blair had been horrified about the inevitability of Mr. Stevens getting back at them, but almost as quickly as he appeared, he vanished, leaving a trail of rumors of being swept away in handcuffs and a large black SUV with federal license plates. Blair had been ecstatic, celebrating their victory and relief with a fervor that Sterling just couldn’t mirror because all she could settle on was the thought of a girl in a giant house who had just lost her father again.

The residual pain had burned like candlelight in a quiet corner of her chest for ages. Suffice to say there had been enough on her mind for a long while, but when she finally had the space and time to process the non-breakup breakup, her heart had already been wrung out to dry. 

She folded April Stevens and the halo of pain that sat around her as small as she could and tucked it away. There would be no reckoning, no closure. She had just wanted to forget.

And now. Cheese and crackers, _now._

She is here, living and breathing and existing in the same square footage as her. It was like she had fallen out of a plane upon seeing April for the first time in years and the unprocessed feelings burst out like a parachute. No warning, no rip cord. Just a jerk and the unfurling of everything she had left behind.

She sighs, throwing an arm over her eyes. 

April broke her heart. Sterling lived past it. Sterling just saw April, and she looks...fantastic? No.

She stands up abruptly, feeling like she is going to buzz straight out of her skin. She wonders for a moment if this is what Blair feels like when she’s on one of her adrenaline kicks.

Her watch beeps softly, signaling the change of the hour. _3 PM_. She looks around the room, hands on her hips and tries to gather herself.

Sterling Wesley is here on a mission—to defend her title. And knowing that there is a certain A. Stevens in the pool of competitors means she’ll have to be at the top of her game. 

She pulls out her laptop and sits down, rolling her neck and cracking her knuckles before getting down to business.

There’s a tournament to win.

//

Light bends and grows in the small hotel room as the afternoon bleeds into evening. Sterling has a little crick in her back from being bent over her computer for so long, hyper-focused on the giant Google doc she had put together with all the information she’d need in her potential stances.

She’s been through her notes a hundred times, but she forces herself to cycle through the document, mentally reciting key points to make sure she has them down pat.

Her stomach grumbles.

She sighs, rolling the idea of an early dinner around in her head as she gets up for a stretch. Dark-yellow sunlight filters through the sheer curtains and goosebumps tingle across her skin as she crosses into its warmth.

Her brain latches onto the thought of a hot slice of pizza and she moves on auto-pilot, grabbing her wallet and phone before pulling on a thin jacket. She’s always cold so it’s better safe than sorry. 

Tucking her keycard between her teeth, she starts gathering her hair to tie it up, knowing it probably looks a mess after hours of hands raking through it in concentration. Her phone buzzes then, the short staccato beat she had assigned specifically to Blair.

**say hi to the bridge for me**

She smiles, glad that her sister remembers the old trips here, too. She pulls the door handle with one hand, typing out a quick response with the other when she runs right into someone standing outside her room.

“Oh! Sorry—”

“Crap—”

Sterling looks up and almost drops everything in her hands when she sees who it is.

"April."

“Hi! Hey.” 

Sterling is frozen, brain on overdrive as she tries to process the fact that she had been waiting at her door, looking just as surprised as she feels and maybe twice as nervous.

“Uh, hi.” She doesn’t know if she can venture beyond single syllables.

“Hi. Yes, hi. I don’t mean to be creepy and apologize if I surprised you.”

Sterling is still waiting for her brain to process what’s happening.

“I—How did you know what room I’m in?”

“You dropped your little keycard thing earlier. I didn’t mean to actually _read_ the number, but it was right there and I’ve got fast eyes. So,” she clears her throat. “I’m here.”

“You’re here,” Sterling repeats. 

She’s here. In front of her once more and her heart thuds in her chest, harder and faster by the second. This girl is seriously activating her fight or flight response, and honestly if it wasn’t for the trophy waiting at the end of the tunnel, she would have skipped town by now.

“Yes, I am here and I wanted to,” she breathes out, “talk.”

“You want to talk.”

She should probably stop just repeating everything being said, but with how much of her mind is occupied by a giant neon sign in her head flashing _DANGER_ , there isn’t much else she can do.

“Can we?”

“I don’t—April, I don’t know.” 

She finally has the wherewithal to nudge past her into the hallway. The door thuds closed behind them and Sterling turns back to her, crossing her arms. 

“Look, I know this isn’t what you were expecting and I don’t want this affecting either of us in competition this weekend. I just want to clear the air.” April looks up at her expectantly, but falters in the next moment. “Unless this was a horrible decision and I’ve made things way worse.”

Sterling considers the bottom line of her words. She’s right—there would be no way she can go into the tournament with a clear mind knowing that the object of her high school heartbreak is existing in the same space. Jeez, what if they had to _face_ each other? She’d lose before she even stepped up to the podium. 

“No,” she sighs. “It’ll be best to get this past us before tomorrow.” 

April smiles then, small and satisfied. 

“Good. I—yes, good. Want to go for a walk?”

“Lead the way.”

//

They’re quiet as they make their way downstairs and out the large front doors. Quiet in contemplation, both girls let the sound of their steps fill the silence and because it seems like April knows exactly where she’s going, Sterling just follows.

They cross a few streets and walk past the lush expanse of a golf course when Sterling starts hearing the soft lap of water in the distance. April had led them to a small clearing by the river, where green grass gives way to rocky sand and small boulders before meeting the grey ripples of Savannah Harbor. 

Sterling sneaks small glances at the girl next to her, wondering almost desperately what she is thinking, what she wants to say. The last thing Sterling wants is to dig up and face all the pain she had so carefully buried, but if everything that happened in the last few years and a truly incredible amount of therapy had taught her anything, it’s that the truth has to see the light.

She braces herself inside for what’s to come, taking careful breaths as April slows down, their shoes digging into the soft give of the pebbles below. 

Unable to stay still, Sterling walks right up to the edge of the water and crouches to dip her fingers in. It’s cold, but refreshingly so. She stands and turns back.

“You knew exactly where you were going.”

April nods.

“Yeah, my family used to come here when I was young.”

“Oh, uh—mine too.”

“Look, I don’t want to waste your time so let’s jump right—”

She stops, a sneeze interrupting her. She sniffles a little and her shoulders jump light and quick in a shiver. 

“Are you sick?” Sterling despises how the question just falls out of her, how she feels a pulse of worry somewhere deep inside. 

“No. I don’t get sick. I just didn’t anticipate it being a little chilly.” She pulls down the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and crosses her arms. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Sterling knows what she’s about to do and truly, it is a battle of self-loathing and surrender to how much this girl can get under her skin. It doesn’t take a second thought before she is shrugging off her windbreaker and passing it to April. 

“I said I’m fine—”

“April,” she says, low and firm. “Take it.”

A beat of, jeez, _something_ as they look at each other for a moment. She accepts the jacket and slides her arms in, zipping it up and visibly relaxing into the warmth.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

It comes out gruffer than Sterling intended, but she can’t help it. There is so much rumbling and warring inside her and the closer she exists to April, the worse it gets. She doesn’t even know where to start or how to parse through the mess of everything that this girl made her feel.

 _Makes_ her feel.

“So where should we begin?” April says, squatting to sit on a big, flat rock by the water.

Sterling turns to look at her. She sits there, fingers twiddling with the edges of her favorite jacket and teeth gently chewing on her bottom lip. There is a calmness that rests like an aura around her that’s been evident since the first moment they saw each other again. A calmness that makes something bubble up from the very bottom of Sterling’s feet and rise to settle in the center of her chest.

“Maybe how you completely stomped on my feelings?”

April’s head whips up, eyes surprised but sharp as they look straight into her.

“Wow okay, jumping right in.”

“Or maybe how your first target to beard yourself out of your feelings was my ex-boyfriend? Or how you totally ignored me for the rest of high school?”

“Sterling—” She tugs gently at the neckline of her sweater.

“You don’t get to be all nonchalant about all this. You do not get to act like it was nothing.”

April glares at her then, anger rising in her face.

“Who said I think it’s nothing?”

“You don’t have to say it, it’s written all over you,” she says, waving a hand over the general vicinity of April.

“That is totally unfair and you know it.”

“Do you know how much I—”

“Sterling, you have only referenced yourself in all of this! Have you stopped to consider it from my perspective?”

“Your perspective? You chose to—I don’t...April, _you_ broke _my_ heart!”

“And you gave me an impossible choice!” She shouts right back, anger and pain laced in her words.

Sterling just looks at her, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open. 

“An impossible choi—Was it that terrible to consider everyone knowing about you and me?”

“You haven’t even tried to think about how hard it would have been for me?” She brings a heavy hand to her forehead. “Sterling, I told you over and over again that my parents were horrible. They’re bigots. If they knew I liked girls, it would have been hell on Earth. I was terrified of what they would do, what my _dad_ would do.” 

“You can’t—”

“I didn’t feel _safe_ _!_ _”_

The words suck all the air out of Sterling’s lungs.

April stands from her seat on the rock, facing out towards the water and crossing her arms to bring the jacket tighter around her. She sighs once, sad and low.

“Sterling, you lived in a home with unconditional love and parents who wanted to know every part of you. You don’t understand.”

All of the burning anger drains from her in an instant. She had been so blinded by how April was unwilling to do her part in their being together. Sterling knows how scary John Stevens can be, but had never considered that terror from inside the house April lived in. 

She feels like an idiot. Selfish and blind and so young in her hurt. She gets up and goes to stand next to her.

“Fuck.” She breathes out. “I’m sorry. Then help me understand. Tell me.” All she can do now is listen and finally fill in the blanks of the story.

April looks up at her, her lips still in a tight line of anger but eyes impossibly soft. She sighs, chest moving in its slow in and out. Her bottom lip pulls in between her teeth as she turns back to the water. Sterling could almost feel something deep and tense unwinding inside the girl next to her.

“When my dad came back right before the lock-in, I just—I panicked. In the time since he’d been arrested, I forgot how _stifling_ he was under that roof. There was something different about him. He seemed sharper somehow. More jagged.” 

She’s stock still as she speaks. It could be from anger or pain or a distant detachment that only time can bring.

“That week before he was taken again was awful. He would rant for hours about sin and false prophets and justice and how the only person he had to answer to was God. It was...horrifying. But then something happened and he was taken by federal agents and I haven’t let myself be hurt by him since.”

“April,” she breathes. “You can’t expect to just forget about your dad.”

“Of course not. God bless therapy.” She lets a small smile slip through. 

“Amen to that.” She considers her words carefully, overwhelmed suddenly by how uncompromising she had been in her blame. It had been binary—Sterling was right, April was wrong. Sterling wanted love and April didn’t.

She sees now that there had been so much more to the decision of sharing that side of themselves with the world. 

“I’m sorry. I was selfish and dumb. You had so much riding on it, and all I wanted to do was scream it from the rooftops. I didn’t think enough about what I was asking you to do.” 

“It’s okay. It was just...a lot to carry back then. I lashed out and tried to run the opposite direction, but it was all to survive, Sterling. It wasn’t you. It was everything else.”

The words placate something deep inside her. She had wondered in the latest of nights if maybe it hadn’t been enough for April, if _Sterling_ hadn’t been enough for her to take the leap.

She watches April, looking for any shift in her face, but turns away when she sees a single tear fall. She looks out to the water and realizes that she’s crying, too.

She clears her throat and swipes a quick hand across her cheeks.

“I—thank you for telling me that.”

“And I’m sorry about what happened with your family,” April says, taking the smallest step towards her. “I never got to say anything or help you at all, but I just couldn’t bring myself to come to you after what happened. I thought it’d just be extra helping of pain for everyone, so I kept my distance.”

“Well, I stayed away too so that’s on both of us.”

April hums in response. Sterling hadn’t planned on opening this door, but it swings wide in a kind of honesty that feels familiar.

“What’d you hear about what happened with my family?” she asks, wondering how much of the truth had actually reached April years ago.

The shorter girl thinks for a moment.

“That your aunt tried to get money out of your family by threatening you. I was terrified when I found out, but everyone was saying how an undercover cop saved you before anything could happen.”

Sterling chuckles. Every rumor is born from a bit of the real thing, and the idea of Bowser hearing that everyone thought he is truly an undercover cop brought some light into the situation. She should call him, it’s been too long since they last caught up.

“That’s, well, kinda true. A lot of stuff went down that night. I got kidnapped for real, there was a gun fight—”

“ _What?!_ ”

“But,” she says quickly, wanting to placate April’s shock, “Blair and our friend tracked me down. My parents got there in time and my mom—”

Her voice catches in her throat. April turns to her then, as if sensing how hard it is to say the words out loud. She breathes, steeling herself. 

“That aunt you heard about is actually my biological mom. My mama took me in when her sister got in trouble with the law and my parents raised me. But I’ve made my peace. I’m their daughter through and through.”

It had taken so long, but she feels safe in the truth. She hadn’t been planning on telling her—she’d never told _anyone_ outside her family, but it had been so easy to let it out in the space between the harbor and the girl standing next to her. 

It’s quiet, but she can almost hear the gears winding in April’s head, undoubtedly processing everything at once and trying to figure out what to say. Her mouth opens and closes—once, twice, three times as she weighs her words, but in the end, April just rests a warm hand on her arm.

“Oh, Sterling.”

The spot tingles and goosebumps rise just like when she had stepped into the patch of sunlight in her room, and it reels her back to the space inside her skin.

“I’m sorry. That must have been so hard to deal with.”

Sterling turns to her slightly, feeling a sad smile rise.

“Guess we both had enough on our plates back then.”

April sighs thoughtfully.

“You know, it’s funny.” She takes an impossibly small step towards Sterling. “I would think about it all the time. Just standing up in the auditorium and yelling for everyone to hear.”

“How dramatic. Very you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

A watery laugh cuts through her, the image both fitting and so strange. 

Is it enough? To consider that April had regretted the end of _them_ —had imagined telling the world just for her, only to fear the repercussions in the moments after? 

Sterling would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it too, and oscillated between wishing things had been different and knowing the past couldn’t change. But it’s three years later and in the space between then and now, between her and April on the shore of Savannah Harbor, maybe it is enough.

“We should head back.”

The slow lap of water in front of them starts to throw flashes of light from the rising moon and Sterling realizes suddenly that they’re standing in the dark. Night had fallen without them knowing.

“Yeah, we should.”

April shifts and goes to take her jacket off.

“No, don’t worry. You’re cold. We’re going back to the same place anyway.”

Her hands stall on the edges as she considers Sterling carefully. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

Sterling’s lips tuck into a small grin.

“You’d be surprised.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

April pulls her phone out to check the time, the screen illuminating her face. 

“Hm. How about you surprise me while we grab something to eat? I’m hungry.”

She looks up at her, eyes calm but expectant.

Sterling doesn’t have to think twice.

“Yeah, I could eat.”

“Great. I scouted out this cool little Italian place two blocks from the hotel. They have immaculate reviews on Yelp.”

“Y’know, maybe you’re the one who hasn’t changed a bit.”

April laughs, a smile overtaking her face. She shakes her head once before turning on a heel up the small dirt path towards the street.

Sterling watches for a moment, considering the sight before her. This girl, hands tucked into the pockets of her own jacket, walking away and down the street once more.

She follows.

//

Dinner does end up being, as April so succinctly put it, _immaculate_. They share a bowl of pasta, a small pizza, and stories both funny and horribly embarrassing. Sterling almost makes April snort Diet Coke out of her nose with her frat bro stories, but April makes Sterling full-on choke on bread when she talks about an ex-girlfriend.

Food turns into dessert, and dessert turns into a slow walk around town because they can’t stop talking, can’t stop catching up and sharing everything that had happened once the world opened up to them.

There’s a voice in the back of Sterling’s head, urging her to step back because everything is moving too fast, but she truly cannot hear it past April’s laugh. 

That is a problem for future Sterling, and present Sterling is inching closer and closer into April’s orbit.

They eventually make their way to the hotel and enter the glass doors when Jean rushes up to Sterling in a frenzy.

“My god, there you are! You haven’t been answering your phone and I was getting worried!”

Sterling blinks in surprise, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. Seven texts and a missed call from ol’ JJ and she hadn’t even realized. She pouts apologetically at her.

“I’m sorry. Totally fine, I promise. April and I grabbed food and lost track of time.”

Jean looks over to the shorter girl, eyes darting to the jacket Sterling had lent her. Something strange passes over her expression.

“Well, the guys and I are going for a late night snack. Wanna come?” Jean takes her hand and tugs on it, and Sterling can almost feel April’s eyes following every move. 

“I’m honestly beat. And I need to get some rest before tomorrow.”

“You sure?” She frowns a little.

“Yeah. Have fun, babe, I’ll see you later.”

“Fine. But only because you’re gonna clean house for us this week.” Disappointment apparent, Jean waves a hand and walks out around them.

“She seems nice,” April says, the edge of something strange curling the end of her words. Sterling whirls around to her.

“What do you mean?”

“Your girlfriend. She seems nice.”

“What? Jean? No, we’re not—” She is so taken aback. “We’re just friends.”

April looks confused, eyes bouncing back and forth between her and the door Jean had just walked out of.

“You guys aren't together?”

“No!” she almost shrieks. Why the heck is her voice so shrill?

“Does she know that?” April says, jutting a thumb behind her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Sterling, she is very clearly and obviously into you. It took two minutes of just existing next to you to make that very apparent.”

“She….Her? What—”

“That was quite the death glare she gave me when she saw I’m wearing your jacket. And the subtle physical touch? Elementary.”

The spot on Sterling’s arm where April had placed a soft hand earlier tingles for a moment.

“Stop. You can’t be serious.”

“That girl is in love with you, _babe_.” The absolute shit-eating grin on April’s face is almost too much. Sterling pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“Okay, okay I get it. Jeez, this is really just. Inconvenient.”

“Yeah, must be tough being _amazing_ and having girls fall left and right for you.”

Sterling turns to her, head cocking in surprise at the words. It’s her turn to smirk at April, whose grin immediately falls away.

“Not a word.”

“You think I’m—”

“I said, not a word.” She points a finger at Sterling’s nose.

“Mmm, you’re not the boss of me.”

April lifts a perfect eyebrow, the corner hiding behind a lock of hair that had swept into her forehead.

Before she realizes what she’s doing, Sterling lifts a hand to tuck it behind her ear. 

The air around them pulses for a moment as April’s breath hitches in her chest. 

It should feel like a victory, except Sterling herself isn’t breathing either.

“It’s uh, it’s getting late,” April says, so low that she can barely hear her.

“Yeah, I should head to bed.”

“Me too.”

They walk over to the elevators and Sterling presses up _._ She tries her hardest to calm down the heartbeat that had risen to her throat, unbelievably sure that April could hear it from where she stands.

She doors _ding_ and a crowd of people shuffle out, unaware and unassuming as they cut a path between the two of them. There’s an awkward look and a two-step as they both enter the elevator and suddenly, they are alone again.

Sterling had never realized how small the space inside an elevator is. Like so small. So small that she can feel the heat of April’s hand right next to hers, can hear her breathing and smell her perfume and the unmistakable _something_ that could only be April.

 _Jesus, help me_.

They don’t say a word as the little arrow above the door ticks upwards to _6_ and stops with a small bell. It isn’t till the doors open that she realizes only one button had been pressed.

“You’re on this floor, too?”

April sticks a hand out to hold the doors open and nods. 

“They uh, put all the girls on one floor.”

“Huh. How heteronormative.”

“Sometimes being the ignored gay minority has its benefits.”

Sterling sees a shot and takes it.

“You looking to benefit on this floor?” She peeks at April out of the corner of her eye, who immediately blushes.

“I—”

“I’m kidding, relax.” She starts walking down the hallway and smiles as she hears her padding along behind.

She stops at her room and pulls the keycard out from her back pocket. With a swipe and a small beep, she opens the handle and turns to say goodnight to April, only to see that she had done the very same thing at the door right next to her.

“Night, neighbor,” she says with a smile, eyes only lingering for a moment before disappearing into her room with a click of the door shutting.

Sterling stands there, speechless and truly confounded by the order of this universe. She looks up at the ceiling, unable to put a name on what she is feeling. 

_Master plan, much?_ ****

She enters her room and turns the deadbolt. It’s quiet as she gathers her things in the bathroom, and it stays that way through a hot shower and her nighttime routine. She can’t help the swirling thoughts that loop around everything she and April had talked about that night.

The revelation of what had truly happened between them, the feelings that had been buried for the sake of reality, the choices they both had made. 

She feels as if a giant burden had been lifted, but a different one has appeared in its place. 

_What now?_

She flicks the lights off and crawls into bed, pulling out the corners of the tucked sheets and getting comfortable in the giant pillows. She breathes, letting herself settle into the noises of the night. Cars roll along the cobblestone streets outside her window and a ship’s foghorn bellows in the distance. The sheets rustle as she turns on her side.

She lets her mind wander about the girl next door and feels the edges of sleep ebb over her when she hears something. 

The soft murmuring of music playing on the other side of the wall. 

Sterling strains to place the song as if it would take her an inch closer to April and her thoughts.

Her chest leaps as the melody dips, as the whisper of lyrics and a strumming guitar bring back the memory of crowded hallways, of flashing neon in a dark room, of quiet kisses and backseats. 

_I’m alright with a slow burn._

April is listening to their song.


	2. make my heart race (even on a good day)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterling's head is halfway to springtime because April's all she can think of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy oh boy, when I say I was ASTOUNDED by the response I got for the first chap...you guys are all so great. thank you for loving this fic as much as I do. here's 7k of pure Yearning & gay energy with a splash of angst. enjoy xx  
> title from sugar by maren morris (the voice of my dreams tbh)

Sterling wakes when the first tendrils of sunrise peek through her window, casting long lines of light across the room and slipping warmth into her sheets. It’s like crossing a threshold—one moment she’s dreaming, colors and soft shapes and music in the distance; and the next she is awake, eyes wide open to reality.

It’s the morning of the first tournament round.

She swings the covers off of her, stretching her arms overhead and squeaking just a little as bones pop and crack with the first movements of the day.

The small clock on the bedside table glows red in the low light.

_6:47_

She had woken up almost an hour before her alarm.

Cursed with an inability to fall back asleep, Sterling knows she’ll just end up tossing and turning in bed so she stands and makes her way to the bathroom, phone in hand.

There are a handful of emails from various professors and clubs and texts from the family chat. Her parents had sent their classic _“Kick some butt, sweetheart! You Got This! Love, Mom & Dad”, _ and Blair had sent a simple string of emojis (skull, skull, fire, knife, trophy, balloons, and strangely, a basketball?) just a few minutes before.

Pleasantly surprised that her sister is up, she calls her.

The little bells trill as the FaceTime call rings, and it takes all of two seconds for Blair to pick up.

_“It is way too early for this.”_

Sterling blows a little raspberry at the screen before squeezing some toothpaste onto her toothbrush.

“Morning to you, too. Why’re you up?”

 _“If I had anything less than a 7:30 exam in a class I suck at, I would for sure still be asleep.”_ She moves off screen, and Sterling hears the _click clack_ of tubes and bottles rattling in Blair’s bathroom.

“Is it that Criminal Trends Through the 1900s one?” Her words are barely intelligible while she’s brushing her teeth, but her sister doesn’t bat an eye.

 _“No, I love that class. Acing it, sis.”_ She throws up a peace sign onto the screen. _“I am sucking it hard in Law and Society.”_

Sterling bends to spit out the foam and suds up some face soap.

“Can we just acknowledge how funny it is that you’re failing at Law and Society?”

 _“I know, fitting right?”_ Blair comes back on screen with makeup only on half of her face. _“What if I just went like this.”_

“Very spooky. Halloween isn’t till the end of the month.” She doesn’t even have to look to see Blair rolling her eyes.

_“The world needs at least a week’s notice before I take on spooky.”_

“Oh!” Sterling says, reminded of the text from earlier. She wipes her face clean and pulls the cap off of her foundation. “Your emojis earlier. Why the basketball?”

Blair’s face turns serious.

_“Basketball. Slam Dunk. You’re gonna slam the competition, duh. Just absolutely pound them.”_

The bottle drops with a crash from Sterling’s hand when April’s face appears in her head.

Her sister is quiet for a moment, undoubtedly spotting the rush of embarrassment and truly, this is one of the times that twin powers are _really_ inconvenient. 

_“Who’d you bone?”_

“What? Why—” She picks up the foundation, analyzing the glass with unnecessary diligence to try and weave away from the question.

_“Sterl. Who’d you slam? And why are my powers so strong from even hours away that I knew to send that emoji. I’m truly incredible. Womb there it is.”_

Sterling sets the bottle down, dotting the makeup across her cheeks and forehead to buy time for thinking out her words carefully. She wants to tell her what happened, but like any good sister, Blair had let her anger and hatred for April grow ten-fold when Sterling had tamped hers down. In a protective balance, her twin had kept the flame of the grudge burning high and hot even after all that time. 

This would have to be done lightly.

“I didn’t smash anyone. I did however—” She finishes evening out the spread of foundation and unscrews a few other bottles and tubes as she prepares herself, “run into April.”

Silence.

Silence is never a good thing with Blair, who thinks and feels in decibels. Sterling knows it’s going to be bad at the size of the breath her sister takes before opening her mouth.

_“Are you fucking kidding me that bitch absolutely broke your heart after you were so bravely going to put yourself out there for her love that she so selfishly ripped away from you after all you guys had—”_

“Blair.”

_“—talked about and agreed on and your poor little baby heart had just realized that you were hot for girls and for her to absolutely steamroll it without a second thought because she was a coward—”_

“Blair!” she urges. “Stop. Really.”

Her sister’s mouth snaps shut, but she can see her jaw flexing tight in anger.

_“Sterl. She broke your heart and did it on purpose.”_

“I didn’t—” She breathes. “There was a lot I didn’t know or consider back then. It was so much more complicated than we thought it was and I’m not saying that it didn’t suck, but it was a long time ago.”

_“I just—you were so hurt by her.”_

A sigh escapes her lips. She smiles small and soft at the screen.

“I know. But we’re okay now. We ripped into each other for a bit, but then we talked it all out and things are okay now.”

_“You guys talked? You didn’t just run in the opposite direction when you saw her demon face?”_

“Demon face is a bit extreme. I mean, she—”

_“No.”_

Sterling’s eyebrows furrow. “What?”

_“No. You already have the hots for her again.”_

Like a deer caught in the crosshairs of her sister’s invariably (and annoyingly) accurate twin-tuition, she stands there frozen for a beat too long before scoffing, like, way too loud.

“I have no idea where you’d—”

 _“Cut the shit, Sterl! Forget the competition, you want to slam_ her _!”_

She feels the tips of her ears go red as the snappy and devastating retort she planned to deliver gets stuck in her throat. There would be no use in lying.

“Blair.” Her mascara slams down on the counter as she plants a hand and hangs her head. “She looks _amazing.”_

The scream her sister emits is ear-splitting and would most likely net more than a few noise complaints in both Athens and Savannah.

_“I honestly cannot believe how gay women can be. Okay yes, I know you’re bi, but like this is next level gay. You saw her for the first time in years and you’re already down to clown? But like, with your heart?”_

She does her best to quiet the worst of her need to gush about April and finishes her makeup before stepping outside the bathroom.

“I don’t know! I just—I felt _something_ yesterday and I think she did, too.”

_“What?! How do you know? Spill everything now. Right now. Like right now.”_

“We ran into each other in the lobby. She found me later and asked to talk. We talked, we yelled, then talked again. Then we had dinner and talked all the way through that.”

_“Ugh, you gays do so much talking.”_

“Then,” she interrupts, throwing her sister a glare, “we came back to the hotel and we ran into Jean and she thought we were dating. Which, we’re not.”

 _“Fuck, I CLOCKED little Jeanette as soon as I met her but you didn’t believe me!”_ Her voice was almost shrill in victory. She calms in the next moment and draws close to the camera. _“What did April say?”_

“She was…” Sterling thinks for a moment, running the look on April’s face, the inflection of her words through her mind. She can’t help the small smile that forms. “I think she was jealous.”

Another scream.

_“Honestly, y’know what? I’m happy for you. God knows you haven’t gotten laid in a while, and if anything can cure your old broken heart, it’s the vagina that got away.”_

“Blair!”

 _“The cat returns!”_ She yells, triumphant. _“Aw, remember that movie? I miss Studio Ghibli sometimes. Maybe I should be a film major.”_

“Okay, focus,” Sterling urges, pulling her clothes for the day from their hangers. “What do I do?”

_“I mean, you’re just going to have to go the classic lesbian way. All those movies we watched for research are finally gonna be useful.”_

“What are you talking about?”

_“It seems to be a simple formula. Lots of talking, prolonged eye contact, plus some sort of physical contact in passing. Girls are so gay for hands.”_

“I want to resent the stereotype, but,” her mind flashes to the evening before, “it’s true.”

Her sister comes back on screen, clad in a maroon v-neck and tying her hair up in a ponytail.

_“What are the odds honestly? That she’s at the same tournament as you?”_

“Bigger than the chances of her being in the room next door.”

Blair drops her phone. The screen goes dark.

Sterling frowns, picking hers up and swiping the screen to the home page. Had Blair’s call cut out?

The phone immediately vibrates with a text.

 **STERL DO YOU KNOW HOW  
** **THIN** **THE WALLS OF A  
HOTEL ROOM ARE**

She frowns, tapping out a response.

**what**

**why does that matter**

**look, I am not a fan of  
little miss priss** **but if  
you’re gonna have a shot  
with her** **let’s not ruin it  
by her overhearing you ** **  
****gushing**

There is an absolute bolt of realization that runs through her when she thinks of the music that had flowed from April’s room to hers. _Fuck,_ Blair is right. Could April have heard their conversation? Had Sterling been gushing?

**oh my gosh**

**shit do you think she  
heard?? ** **YOU were being  
loud omgomgomg**

She takes a deep breath in and and stills, straining to listen for any indication that April had been sentient and aware of the conversation that had been taking place on her side of the wall. There isn’t a sound but the distant call of birds out her window, and after a sufficient amount of time in silence has passed, Sterling lets herself relax. 

**I don’t hear anything  
from her** **room. hopefully  
she’s still asleep**

 **gosh, good catch. but I  
wasn’t** **gushing anyway so**

Her phone buzzes, once, twice in rapid succession.

**you were about to**

**God, there’s a sex joke  
in there** **somewhere**

Sterling rolls her eyes and tosses her phone down on the bed. She turns around to check out her outfit in the large round mirror—the deep grey of her skirt compliments the white of a loose, flowy top and tendrils of her hair hang from a ponytail to frame her face. It is an image of a put-together, professional woman prepared to kick ass, but still, she tugs on her sleeves and the waistline of her skirt in a nervous anticipation that is different from the usual adrenaline she feels during these competitions. 

Grabbing her bag from the desk, she double-checks the contents to make sure she has everything she needs and looks around the room again. 

Her eyes come to rest on the wall she shares with April. 

There is no denying that her mind is anchored in the room next door, floating in and around April. Just one night together, talking and laughing and thinking _way_ too many thoughts, and she can already feel the grip on her focus slipping away. It’ll take everything she has to keep from getting too distracted.

Sterling sighs and rests a hand on the wall, palm flat against the coolness of the patterned wallpaper. 

It’s a familiar feeling—being so close, yet so far from this girl she had lost and won and lost again just a few years ago. She closes her eyes.

A beat passes and with a breath, she steps back, resolved in her focus. It’s almost like an old habit, how she folds the idea and feeling of her up, small and safe, tucking her away as she walks towards the door.

Sterling steels herself for the competition, knowing that the first round is always the hardest to navigate, always the easiest to let herself break apart in the pressure. The knob turns in her hand with a sharp _click_ and she’s out the door, already unshelving all the research she had done in her mind. If she were to take the affirmative in—

Something catches her eye. A shade of light fluttering down to the floor by her feet.

A post-it.

She picks it up.

 _Good luck today._ _  
__Just lean into it._

April had beat her out of the room this morning, undoubtedly early to prepare for the day and left a note on her door before leaving. The words resonate with something far in the past—something that echoes in her soft voice, in her gaze that always seemed to cut right through Sterling. 

Her heartbeat flutters and the hidden spot where she had just tucked April away unfurls like an old map, creases and folds opening to their familiar places. There’s no way to stop it, no way to keep this warmth and affection and _hope_ from expanding to every inch of her body.

It ripples across her skin, through her fingertips against the paper and she lets herself think, just for a moment, that April is telling her to lean into this feeling between them.

//

When the elevator doors open to the lobby, Sterling is woken from her daze by a wave of sound and movement. The level is flooded with people criss-crossing the floor, calling out for teammates and friends or anxiously discussing the upcoming rounds. She snaps out of it in an instant and steps out onto the marble, eyes scanning the crowd for Dr. Sherman and her clubmates.

Last year, she had been overwhelmed by the sheer energy of the tournament—the beauty of college is the freedom of choice and her pool of competitors was no longer half-filled with uninterested peers. Every person in this event is there to gun for a win, and it double-times both the anxious churning in Sterling’s stomach and the adrenaline in her veins.

She spots a waving arm and the dark bob of Doc’s hair in the far corner, calling her over. 

Sterling steps quickly across the lobby, weaving through and between bodies. Jeez, were there this many people last year?

“Sterl! How we doin’?” Dr. Sherman says, pulling her into a one-armed hug. “Did you sleep well?”

A nervous smile.

“Yeah, I—I’m good. A little jittery, but that’s normal.”

“Darn right, it is. I’m surprised you weren’t down earlier! I’m glad you got some good rest.”

“I was talking to my sister and got,” _Distracted by feelings? Side-tracked by a girl?_ She swallows it all and just lets the sentence trail off. “Did you get our assignments?”

Dr. Sherman nods enthusiastically, immediately motioning for everyone to gather around her.

Jean sidles up to Sterling and smiles, gently nudging her in a little _good morning_. She smiles back, but is hit by the revelation from the previous night. Her stomach churns again. 

Honestly, if she knew there’d be this much girl trouble at this freakin’ event, she would have stayed home.

(The image of April smiling at her over dinner pops into her head. Maybe she would have risked it.)

“Alright, y’all, just a little overview for Mitchell since it’s his first time,” she pats him on the shoulder and the freshman grins sheepishly. “Bit of a round-robin style event, every member of each team is separated into different groups for the first two rounds. You win both rounds, you advance automatically. Two losses, you’re out. One win and you’ll have to wait for the full pool of competitors to finish before they fill out the field for elimination rounds. Everyone clear?”

The circle nods. Dr. Sherman pulls out a folder from her bag and opens it, passing out sheets of paper to everyone.

“Here are your group assignments. The first topic is, ‘Specialized high schools increase the quality of education in the United States’. There’s a pretty even split between affirms and negs between you all so work together if you want to or get some reviewing done before the first bell. We’ve got just under an hour till the round kicks off, breakfast is over there, you’ll get two hours before the second round so let’s meet at lunch.” She’s positively breathless as her words run together with nervous excitement. Everyone is antsy and itching to go, so they all nod and break, dispersing into the crowd.

“Sterling!”

She turns to see Jeanette following close behind.

“Hey!”

“Which side were you assigned?” Jean holds up her sheet. Sterling glances down and scans the paper.

“Uh, I’m group two and affirmative. You?”

“Damn. I’m group five. Negative.” She frowns slightly and it pulls at something inside Sterling.

“You’re gonna do great, J. Don’t worry.”

“Ugh, I don’t know why we do this to ourselves. I couldn’t sleep at all last night.”

Soft notes and a twanging voice filter through Sterling’s head and she has to physically tamp it down.

“Stick to your points, stay flexible with the cross and remember to talk slow. You’ve got this.”

“Your cardinal rules, I know, but—”

Her friend’s voice almost immediately fades away from her attention when her eyes are pulled to something in the distance.

A flash of brown hair and a laugh.

April. 

She is standing amid a sea of dark green blazers, clad in one herself over light brown pants. It’s as if something pulls at April, because not one moment after Sterling spots her, their eyes meet.

_Fuck._

“Hey Jean,” she says, interrupting her, “I’m sorry, I have to go. Just trust yourself and be strong. You’re gonna be fine.” The last words are thrown over her shoulder as Sterling moves around her friend and she all but trips when she looks back up to see April still looking at her.

Gazes locked, the sounds around Sterling reduce to a single hum and all she can do is watch as April raises a finger to pause the guy she’s talking to and make her way towards her.

There’s a brief flash of wanting to run the other direction, far and away from the overwhelming rush that exists in proximity to April Stevens, but there is a larger desire pulling at her, making her move towards the girl and the feeling that always seems to tag along.

“Hey,” she breathes when they meet halfway.

“Hi.”

“I—thank you for the note. That was sweet.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” April is absolutely unable to quell the smile that pulls at her lips.

“Mmm, don’t want to let your frat bros know you’re helping the competition, right?”

April rolls her eyes. Before Sterling can think twice, she reaches out to rub April’s lapel between her thumb and forefinger. The soft fabric is warm from her skin. “I can’t believe you guys have matching blazers.”

“Look, I can’t help that they made this club a _fraternity_ like eons ago. They’ve had more than a few girls join, but they’re so adamant about keeping the title. I’m lobbying to get them to change it.”

She smiles. “Of course you are.”

“Yeah! I mean, I keep telling them that it’s totally unfair to the women who are part of the group, but they insist that the meaning of fraternity isn’t a brotherhood, per say. One of them tried to tell me it means a fellowship and I almost punched him in the face.”

It pulls a laugh from Sterling and April grins wide, chuckling along. They look at each other for a beat, two beats, three, then both look away, Sterling adjusting the bag on her shoulder and April clearing her throat. 

“Uh, where are you starting?” Sterling asks, voice just a little too high.

“I’m in group five. You?”

She nods, secretly relieved that they wouldn’t be facing each other that day. 

“Two.”

“You nervous?”

“Yeah, but I’ll be okay,” she breathes. She imagines the ripples of the water from the night before, its coolness to the touch. “I’m gonna lean into it.”

April smiles, the very tops her cheeks and tips of her ears turning pink.

“Okay, well I have to go. We’ve got some prepping to do,” she says, pointing a thumb behind her. Sterling looks over her shoulder to a group of guys who seem to be trying very hard not to look at them.

“Your brotherhood awaits.”

She laughs as April rolls her eyes and turns to go, looking back just for a moment before heading over to the gaggle of green blazers waiting for her. Sterling goes to find her clubmates again, and when there’s a chorus of hoots and hollers behind her followed by a smack and a harsh _“shush!”,_ she just blushes and pretends she didn’t hear.

//

Time blurs, more and more as the clock runs closer to the beginning of the first round. It’s all Sterling can do to keep herself focused on her notes, on her preparation. It’s like a syncopated rhythm, how her thoughts alternate between talking points and April. 

Charter schools have significantly higher scores in standardized state testing than their local public school systems.

The way April’s cheeks dip when she smiles.

Magnet schools are proven to increase both engagement and future studies in STEM, especially for women.

The color of her eyes.

Private schooling allows for greater financial support to improve the quality of education in everything from faculty to student resources.

Her lips—

“The affirmative will be the first to start. You may proceed.”

Sterling is wide-eyed as she realizes where she is—standing at a podium alongside her opponent, a stout boy in a jacket one size too big, and two judges looking up at her expectantly.

A bell rings. The first round has begun.

_Shit._

//

Sterling almost stumbles out of the room, still spinning and floating somewhere above her own head. It seems almost impossible that she had come out of that round with a win, and to think it was only because her opponent had accidentally refuted his own argument in the last two minutes makes her want to vomit. 

Her insides feel as if they’ve knotted, then knotted again and she can barely stand upright as she makes her way down the hall.

What the _hell_ just happened?

She plops down on a bench and lets her bag fall to the ground, resting her too-warm forehead on her hands. 

Distracted is an understatement—she had been on auto-pilot almost all morning, submerged in a sea of April only to resurface the very moment before the first round. She had gripped that podium like it was a life preserver and very nearly drowned. It’s so embarrassing she could die.

Sterling breathes once, deep and harsh to try and get a grip. It feels like her brain had scattered like stars across the sky and now, she has to draw constellations through them again, lining and connecting what matters most at this exact moment.

Debate, yes. April, no.

There would be time for her later.

She combs through the last hour in her head as she makes her way to the conference hall to pick up her lunch. Her points and arguments are hazy at best—she’s pretty sure that she referenced the Bible and Michelle Obama in the same sentence, and then referred to the judges as “y’all” at least twice.

A groan escapes her lips as she walks out a set of double-doors to a patio. She chucks her food down on a metal table and sits.

It was an immense stroke of luck that she got through the first round with a win while literally flying blind, so that’s it. No more of this. She checks her watch and pops open the box holding her sandwich, wolfing down a huge bite.

There are two hours till her next debate. It’s time to get down to business. Sterling _has_ to be able to get through the rest of the day without April scrambling her mind like the soft egg it is—

“Care for some company?”

Sterling looks up with a mouthful of sandwich and almost chokes at the sight of the object of her thoughts standing _right_ there. She narrowly misses swallowing her lunch whole and moves her stuff closer to her, indicating for April to sit. 

All Sterling can do is watch as she sets her things down neatly, taking a seat and pulling off her blazer before turning to hang it over the back of the chair. 

“Hey.” She grins small and April answers with one of her own.

“Hey yourself. Congrats on your first round win, killer.” 

The leftover buzz from the almost-disaster of her debate still rings in her ears, but she just nods. She’d rather die than let it be known that she almost lost because of sheer yearning.

“Thanks. How’d it go for you?”

“If I were to give myself a grade,” she starts, popping open the plastic top of her lunch, “it would be an A plus.” She looks at her in that classic April way, self-assured and proud and so resoundingly _her_ that it pulls a genuine laugh from Sterling.

“And why’s that?” She takes a bite, knowing she has to at least _try_ to control her smiles.

“I made my opponent cry.”

“Of course you did.”

April gasps at her in mock outrage.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Sterling looks at her for a moment as she unscrews the cap of her water. She takes a sip, eyes turned to the sky and reminded yet again of the storm that’s been brewing inside her since the day before.

“It means that you, April Stevens, show no mercy.” 

She grins, wide and almost delighted. “This is true.”

“Very _‘take no prisoners’_ as my coordinator would say.”

“Take no prisoners?” April bites into her food and tilts her head at her.

“Yeah like, no mercy. Eyes on nothing but the prize.”

Her eyebrows lift as she lets out a thoughtful hum, bottom lip tucking as she chews on the inside of it. 

“What?”

“Um, nothing.”

She clears her throat and something catches in Sterling’s.

“So,” she says, desperate to keep her mind running, to keep it from settling too long on the color of April’s eyes in the cool, autumn light. “Do you still talk to anyone from Willingham?”

It had been an interesting spread for their class upon graduation—nearly half had opted for the tradition that is UGA, while all the others looked for new paths in new places. It had been quite a shock when the news of April choosing Emory University had circulated through the community, but it had made sense to Sterling whenever she let herself think about it. Away from the troubled familiar, towards a fresh start. 

“I’m sure you can guess, but only Ezekiel and Hannah.”

“How’re they doing?” Much like anything else, Sterling had only caught glimpses of them over the past few years while scrolling here and there.

“Ezekiel’s traveling with an acting troupe around the East coast and loving it. Hannah…..well, she’s convinced she’s redefined herself by dropping the ‘B’ from her name, but she’s as Hannah B as ever.”

“Both points make total sense,” Sterling says, nodding and April breathes a soft laugh.

“What about you?”

“I see Hannah G around sometimes, but other than that, not much leftover from high school. And Blair doesn’t count.” 

“How is she?”

“She’s great, actually. She was kinda sulky at first about UGA, but she’s really liking what she’s studying. Signed up for all these activist clubs and we visit home once a month, which I know she loves.” Sterling looks up from her food to see April look down. _Crap._

It’s an unsaid understanding that April hadn’t been home to visit since they started college. Every break and holiday had passed without her unmistakable presence in their town and Sterling would be lying if she said she hadn’t noticed. 

“But,” she continues quickly, trying to resolve the mood, “y’know school’s so much better. Like home is so...boring and not that—” she clears her throat, “important.”

The fact that she’s trying to cover up the need for April to explain, to justify not being home is so clear that Sterling feels like an idiot. She’s blathering on, unable to keep the words from tumbling out, but she can’t bear how quickly the sadness had rushed over April so she just lets it happen.

“Yeah,” she almost whispers. “I—yeah.” A sigh falls from April’s lips and the breath of it skitters across Sterling’s fingers. 

“Nothing but ancient history there,” she says, barely getting the words out.

“The past is in the past, right?”

Her tone is so sad that Sterling looks up in surprise, and April’s eyes turn impossibly soft.

It’s almost overwhelming, the feeling that rises in her chest. It feels like butterflies filling the pleural space, a fluttering that keeps her from breathing for one, two, three beats.

Their silences are so full of _something—_ it’s like the moment before lightning strikes, the fizzle of energy and potential gliding through them, between them. It makes the blood race under Sterling’s skin, every bit of her attuned to April like a compass pulled north.

A car beeps in the distance and both girls jump as the outside world comes rushing back in.

April clears her throat and turns to dig through her bag. She pulls out her phone and lets out a small “ _shit”_ under her breath.

“I’ve gotta go. My teammates are looking for me.” Her movements are deliberate and almost strained as she gathers her things, as if she would rather stay than anything else. “I promised I’d go over a few things with them before the next round.”

Sterling focuses on chewing and swallowing like a normal, chill, cool human being. Totally not watching as April moves in the sunlight, her profile dipping in and out of its shadow.

“Your brothers need you.”

She meant for it to pull a laugh, to ease the strange tension that had suddenly settled into April’s bones, but she just hums in agreement, teeth biting into her bottom lip.

Sterling’s eyes are drawn to it like magnets, the pull of the sight almost electric.

April turns in her seat to get her blazer and slips it on.

“I’ll—see you later?” She asks, straightening her collar. The tone is hopeful, so soft. Sterling just smiles and nods, not trusting herself to speak.

April gathers her things. She pauses for a moment, deep in thought, before turning to Sterling and placing a warm hand over hers. 

Everything inside her quiets.

It rests there for a moment, soft and still, and while Sterling considers the merits of spontaneous combustion, April swipes a slow thumb across her knuckles before standing up and walking away.

She just watches, dazed and speechless and wondering whether April had wanted to say something in that too-full silence.

God knows she wanted to.

She groans, folding her arms on the table and resting a forehead on the cool metal. Exasperated doesn’t cover it. She is edging towards recklessness with her feelings, absolute _negligence_ with her emotions and all of these confusing moments between them are not helping. Is April feeling all of this, too? Is she being crazy for letting her heart pool up with all this desire from the past? 

She closes her eyes and all she sees is April. Smiling, laughing, looking at her with those eyes. _Jesus Chr—_

Her phone buzzes in her bag. She pulls it out to see a text from Doc.

 **Less than an hour left  
till Round 2.** **Haven’t  
seen U yet. Doing OK?**

Fuck. _Again._ April is going to be the death of her. 

Or at least her debate career.

She gathers all of her things in her arms and hightails it to her team’s little meeting area, cursing herself and punctuality and time itself for chugging along without a single care for her feelings.

//

**less yearning, more  
learning!!**

**these lines are just  
writing** **themselves omg**

**blair, please stop  
I’m dying**

**nail the second round!**

**then nail April later**

**Are you there, God?** **  
****It’s me, Comedy.**

**help**

***water drop emojis***

//

They say practice makes perfect, that preparation is key to victory. Insert every single stereotypical statement here and you’ll see that winning means a focused mind, clear eyes, a heart _not_ distracted by the reappearance of a girl in green.

The last bell rings and she is no closer to clarity than the first moment she laid eyes on April the day before.

Sterling loses her second round.

//

There’s a buzzing in her ear that radiates through her, running like a live wire under every inch of her skin. The feeling of it constantly changes, morphing from confusion to sadness to utter astonishment by the second. 

She stands at the monstrous results board, looking up at the spread of names, groups and the final tallies of the day. Her name sits bold and red on the right side, a curt _Wesley, S._ followed by a _1-1._

Sterling has never been _that_ kind of competitive. She’s more invested in the pursuit, in the meanings; hell, she’s even lost on purpose because of what she believes in. But this?

After preparing for weeks, the loss burns. 

She counts 12 people with a 2-0 record, a certain _Stevens, A._ among them and disappointment boils low in her gut. Her fate for the rest of the competition was in the hands of a panel of judges that would round out the final 16. All she can do is wait.

And if there’s one thing Sterling is terrible at, it’s waiting.

“Can you believe her? She’s like the debate queen.”

A voice rings behind her and she turns to see a lanky guy in a dark green blazer chatting with a girl.

“You’re so lucky you have her on your team. Is it true she studies every single person in the competition?” the girl asks, taking a sip from her cup.

“Yeah, it’s unreal. She has these dossiers of information she can use on everyone. Weaknesses, secrets, history. Anything to get under their skin and take them out of the running.”

Something pulses deep inside her.

_Anything to get under their skin._

_Weaknesses. History._

Could it be? Fear and anger roil through her as she considers the possibility that April had tripped her up, had done _everything_ on purpose since the first moment to get ahead.

It doesn’t make sense, but there is no sense in how Sterling gives into the anger, turning on a heel and taking off towards the bustling conference hall.

Voices and the clink of silverware rattle through the space as the entire tournament mingles over an evening mixer. Food sits warmed in large silver vats and crowds of students converge over white plates and soft drinks—their laughs and conversation are loud, echoing through the large hall littered with cloth-lined tables. Although the occasional sullen face interrupts the spread of people, undoubtedly bitter from a loss or more, the overall temperature of the room is a relieved comfort after a long day.

Sterling does not feel the same.

Her eyes scan the crowd till she spots the group in a familiar green huddled around a table in the center of the room and all she can do is stand there as April’s voice, April’s _laugh_ rings clearly in her ears.

A voice of careful reason nudges at her inside. _Is this even something she’s capable of? Would she do this to you?_

But Sterling can’t hear any of it as she marches over, following the sound like a radar towards the only thing she’s been able to think about for the past 24 hours. 

April appears in the crowd, face absolutely alight and almost _...smug_ in her air of victory. She’d cleaned up the competition, there’s no doubt about it, and it radiated from her like heat off of a furnace. 

Sterling’s skin gets warmer and warmer the closer she gets to her.

Without a second thought, she breaks into the circle and April immediately quiets, eyes wide and locked onto hers.

“I need to talk to you.”

April nods, small and careful, and stands from her seat. A murmur runs through the group of guys, but she silences it with just a look.

“Lead the way.”

Sterling turns and walks out towards the hallway, intimately and frustratingly aware of every move made by the girl behind her. She doesn’t dare turn around to look, but she knows she’s just a step behind, close and concerned and eyes locked on the back of Sterling’s head.

It’s disorienting how attuned she is to her. Just one day—one _fucking_ day—and all of this. Led astray and off-course by the sudden reappearance of the girl who slipped away so long ago, she is lost and without direction in a sea of April.

She whips around and April almost runs into her at the sudden stop. 

“Sterling, what’s wrong?”

She’s buzzing, the energy and adrenaline of what she might do keeping her from standing still.

“I—”

“Did something happen? Are you okay?”

The concern in her face is so genuine that it tugs on Sterling’s heart. April is actually worried for her and it threatens the breakneck pace the anger speeds through her veins. 

A group of people walk past them in the hall and if there’s anything she needs right now, it’s privacy.

Without another thought, Sterling groans and takes her hand, pulling her through a door behind them. It’s a small room, halfway dark with chairs stacked in the corners. A ceiling light flickers in a dull, irregular beat and it makes the room shift in and out of dim shadows.

“What—” April starts but is silenced by the sound of Sterling shutting the door and locking it. The small _click_ reverberates through the space.

Sterling’s chest is almost heaving as she considers her words. April’s eyes are wide and confused as she searches her face for any sign of what’s going on. 

“It’s been like, 24 hours since I saw you again and I almost bombed both of my rounds today because of you. No, I did actually bomb my second round because of you.”

April’s eyes squint slightly. She shakes her head as she processes what Sterling is saying.

“Are you _blaming_ me?”

“No, I—” Sterling brings a hand to her forehead, eyes closing in frustration. Why couldn’t she just say what she’s feeling? “Did you make a dossier on me?”

“Excuse me?” Her features turn dark and sharp, taking on the energy of the frustration roiling through Sterling.

“Your dossiers. Did you make one about me?” The emotions threaten to spill over, making her voice waver and she hates the sound of it.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You—I spent three years forgetting you and keeping you out of my head! And then you waltz back in and it takes less than a day for you to make me this crazy again? Are you doing this on purpose?”

April flinches as if the words had physical impact. Her lips open, teeth chewing on her tongue as she breathes through her thoughts. Sterling is almost shaking now and she can’t differentiate her anger from her fear, her heart from her head.

“You think that I would use our, our _history_ to mess you up for this debate tournament? That I have been acting like this only to make you lose?”

“Yes! No, no I—” It’s positively dizzying how Sterling can’t get a hold of what she thinks, what she believes. Could April do that to her? Maybe. Would she? No.

“ _No._ I did not make a dossier on you.” A breath. “You’re the only one I didn’t make a file for.”

April is as unreadable as ever, the only hint of her feelings coming from the sharp depth of her eyes, irises almost completely dark in the shadows.

Sterling pushes back the tendrils of hair around her face and turns away, taking a few steps just to move in the anxious energy that pulls at her bones. She whips right back as words pile up on her tongue.

“I don’t know what to think, April. I don’t know what’s happening. I barely made it through my rounds because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and that post-it this morning and lunch and your hand. And that song last night? I mean, did you mean to make me—”

“Wait, what?” The confusion is sharp and sudden in April’s face.

Sterling pauses, head cocking slightly as the question hiccups her anger like a speed bump.

“You played Slow Burn last night in your room. Our song. Loud enough for me to hear.”

A flushed pink rises through the column of April’s throat.

“You heard that?”

Sterling’s eyebrows furrow, her brain kicked into overdrive at the revelation that April had played that song for herself, not knowing that she could hear on the other side of the wall.

_But that means—_

She doesn’t want to face it. 

“April, what are we doing here?”

She sighs then, deep and exasperated as a hand reaches back to run through her braid. _“I don’t know,_ Sterling. You pulled me in here.”

They both know that isn’t what she was asking. 

The storm inside her calms as she considers the truth. How is it possible that this girl always makes her feel like she’s on fire, burning on the edge of sanity? Whether it was in high school or now, April has the uncanny power of taking over every bit of her thoughts, crowding her mind and heart beyond reason.

All she can do is feel her way through all of the spinning thoughts in her head. Trace through them as if following a string, hand over hand in quiet realization.

Every moment between them had been real. Sterling let herself be carried away in a vortex of doubt and fear, sweeping her far from the reality that maybe, just maybe, April is feeling the same things she is. It’s both too much and not enough.

“What do you want, Sterl?” she says, looking up at her. A small sigh escapes her lips, the sound of it winding around the small space. When had she gotten so close? “What are we doing here?”

Her breaths even out and the heartbeat in her chest quiets—in resolve, in resignation, in acceptance. 

Here is April, once again, in the soft light of a dark room alone with Sterling and all she wants to do is the same thing she did all those years ago. 

She watches the girl in front of her, whose eyes flick back and forth between hers in quiet trepidation of a moment that feels like the two of them standing on the edge of a cliff. 

_What are we doing here?_

Sterling steps in closer and raises a hand to cup her jawline.

“Leaning into it.”

They kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was concerned at first that they were falling into this too fast, but then I remembered how wlw work & it made sense. one (1) day is all sterling would need. & bc of the sheer size of the chapters, it's looking like the story will wrap up by the next one! 
> 
> this one was a challenge but it is HERE & alive & posted. 3 cheers for my friend max & her lovely editing. hope you guys liked it!!

**Author's Note:**

> big thanks to beth & all my new tbh friends for giving me an outlet to yell about this fucking immaculate show. pray for a season 2 & tell everyone you know to watch it 
> 
> let me know what you guys think bc comments give me LIFE. just made a twitter (@gostorain) so come yell & @ the tbh writers room: pls hire me


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